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<title>The flames that cannot be put out by themostawesomehuman</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25709848">The flames that cannot be put out</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/themostawesomehuman/pseuds/themostawesomehuman'>themostawesomehuman</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Last Hours Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hurt, Parabatai Bond</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:34:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>522</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25709848</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/themostawesomehuman/pseuds/themostawesomehuman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Were you ever going to tell me?” James’ voice echoed in his mind. Matthew had woken up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, his chest felt like it was on fire and every single breath, the flames were scorching and eating him alive from inside out.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The flames that cannot be put out</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Were you ever going to tell me?” James’ voice echoed in his mind. Matthew had woken up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, his chest felt like it was on fire and every single breath, the flames were scorching and eating him alive from inside out. Like an insatiable fire, it burnt everything and turned them into ashes. No longer colorful. No longer beautiful. The nausea swirled unrestrained in his empty stomach which made him bend doubled when he was reminded of what had happened the day before.</p><p>“Were you ever going to tell me?” James demanded, he couldn’t move a muscle in his body, it felt as if he was stuck in quicksand and he was drowning. He didn’t understand why Grace did it—why Matthew did it. He didn’t understand any of it. </p><p>Matthew only shook his head, trembling hands trying to open to top of his flask. He swallowed loudly, downing the content in big gulps. “Does it matter?” He sneered,” you wouldn’t have believed me anyway! I kissed her, James, I didn’t want to but I did,” his green eyes glossed. </p><p>“I-what do you mean?” James’ mouth went dry, his head was spinning and his vision blurred. James knew what Matthew meant. Grace made Matthew kiss her. James felt an invisible knife sat precariously on his skin, it was soft enough to not pierce his neck, hard enough to enforce the intended message. The harsh metal should have been cold and raw against his bare skin, but his numb body could not feel anything except for the excruciating pain of betrayal. His throat and heart held in a silver grasp, and all he could do was stare lifelessly at the beautiful eyes that would have held the blade and the terrifying coldness he had never seen before. He was waking up to see the real Grace Blackthorn. </p><p>James knew fully well that Matthew wouldn’t lie to him. Matthew was his best friend, parabatai, brother. He knew. But he wasn’t ready—he wasn’t ready to see Grace for who she actually was—cruel, cold, manipulative. He wasn’t ready to admit to himself that for years it was neither blind infatuation and nor the love he yearned for. He wasn’t ready to wake up. </p><p>“SAY SOMETHING!” Matthew shrieked, he sounded desperate—so desperate. Almost as desperate as James felt to cling on to his Grace— victim, gentle, lovely. He could feel her slowly fading away like a curtain revealing the final show. The real show. The real Grace. He couldn’t breathe then, he felt like he was drowning as the truth slowly sunk in. </p><p>“Say something!” Matthew’s voice echoed in his mind. James had woken up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, his chest felt like was on fire and every single breath, the flames were scorching and eating him alive from inside out. Like an insatiable fire, it burnt everything and turned them into ashes. No longer colorful. No longer beautiful. The nausea swirled unrestrained in his empty stomach which made him bend doubled when he was reminded of what had happened yesterday.</p>
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